LULI I I l ri I I l I I l l l I I I I I
JI Modern Cain
A TR UE STOR Y OF THE SECRET SER VICE
By COL. II. C. WHITLEY
HE barren, rocky little
farm In Northern Ver
mont, a mile or two
out from the village
of Newtown, near the
Derby line, was sug
gestive mainly of hard
work and small re
turns, to the ordinary
observer. Its build
ings were small and
old and out of repair;
Its fences were sag
ging In pla es; the
orchard, long past Its prime, was dy
ing out, and the lack of money to buy
new trees had prevented the filling up
of the vacant places. Dut In spite of
all Its drawbacks, the barren, rocky
little farm was a glorified place to
John Barrows that day In early
spring In the fifties; for that day
Jane Heath had promised to be his
wife. Jane had lived alone In the
little house In the village, left to her
on the death of her father and mother
several years before, and always the
families had been friends. She was
a beautiful girl, with the glossy black
hair, the dark and sparkling blue eyes,
the firm apple cheeks and the sun
shiny nature and undaunted courage
of her Irish ancestors. She had never
been afraid to live alone neither fear
of possible physical peril nor of the
mental, attitude that sometimes is
more to be dreaded even than thieves
or wandering beggars, by people who
have too much of their own Boclety,
ever had disturbed her. She possesxed
a strength of character which bbe
herself did not realize but which, In
promising to marry John Barrows,
meant that she gave him her undying
devotion.
She had known John Barrows long
and Intimately since the days when
they went to the little village school
together. In later years, often she
had been a guest at the Barrows farm
house, wherein the family was made
up of John and his mother and hi
brother Andrew. Mrs. Barrows loved
the sunny-faced girl as a daughter,
and Andy Andy was the one source
of apprehension to the otherwise en
tlrely happy young couple. An ami
cable agreement as to the division of
the farm had been reached, but lately
Andy had Beemed moody and despond
ent, and often he watched John and
Jane with Jealous eyes. A few days
before John's proposal, Andy had
nskod Jane to marry him, but she bad
gtntly refused.
"Yes, I know why you won't marry
me. You're In love with John. He's
younger than I, and better favored,
and you've fallen in love with his
handsome face. But you're mine by
rights as I'm the oldest I should
havs the first choice. Oh, do say you
love me, Jane!"
"Why, Andy, you know I couldn't
ay that, when you know I do not
care for you In that way. I'm so
sorry "
"I don't want your pity. Even rf
you don't love me, 1 love you enough
for both --can't you marsy me? 1
could fix It so we'd hcre all the farm
and you need c-rer want for any
thing."
"No, Andy, I don't love you, and I
never shall, and I'm not going to
marry you. I'm sorry you feel so bad;
can't we be friends?"
"Yes, we can be friends, but even
If you won't marry me, neither shall
you ever marry jonn. Mam my
words."
Andy Barrows had an Intimate
friend, Malcolm Thomson, a close-
mouthed, crafty Scot, and to him Andy
confided his troubles. Thompson con
Idered the matter, then advised Andy
to be friendly to his brother and thus
lead him to think that he Andy was
reconciled, but to bide his time,
Plans for the marriage were dis
cussed, and Thanksgiving day was de
cided on for the wedding. The sale
of John's share of the season's crops
and livestock, with the money the
bank account dear to the heart of
every New Englander which John
had In the bank, would be enough to
build tho little house, on the opposite
side of the field from the old one
on which the young couple had cen
tered their dreams. John was work
lug his hardest fo coax the old farm
(to yield, and hauling logs and lumber
'in oua nours ror tne new lioiiHe and
ouiuunaings. One day, early In the
fall, the brothers were working In th
field near the house. The days were
growing nhorter, and Andy suggested
that he remain In the field, working
as long as there was light, and that
John go to the house to do the chores.
John agreed, and went to his chores
with a happy heart, thinklne that
tndy hadn't really been so greatly
disappointed, after all.
"Mother," he said, as he brought in
the palls of foaming milk, "I believe
Andy's got all over being Jealous of
too. He's so pleasant and agreeable
lately that I can't help thinking he
has forgiven me."
"He had nothing to forgive, my
on," said Mrs. Itarrows; "but I'm as
glad as you are to see him In a more
reasonable frame of mind. I only wish
there were two Janes. Sho Is a good,
sweet girl, fit to be the wife of any
man."
"Bless you for saying that, mother.
$
Sure to Find His Level
fUal Worth, Not Brag or Bluster, Mutt
Qlvt a Man Permanent
Position.
Many persons are so carried away
by their own importance that they
Jose tight of the fact that tho world
sees through IU own eyes. It may be
persuaded to accept for a time at least
M mac's eilmait of himself, and may
Fbrmer CMpf Vnltrd
Hates Svcrvt S rvtci
You don't know how happy you make
me. 1 11 go and whistle for Andy I
see supper's nearly ready."
Andy, however, did not respond to
repeated whistlings, and finally John
went to the field to search for him,
but could not find him and re urned
to the house. "1 guess he's gone to
the village, mother," he said, "and 1
suppose l.e will eat supper there.
You know he often does that." His
mother was satisfied, and Andy's ab
sence caused no alarm. Later In the
evening a haystack, that stood In the
field near the place where the broth
ers had been at work, was discovered
to be on fire. John went out to try to
save It, but It seemed to be burning all
over at the same time, and he could do
nothing. The fire was attributed to
some malicious or thoughtless boys,
and no one thought of connecting It
with Andy's disappearance.
Several days elapsed, and Andy did
not return. His mother and brother
thought he might have gone to visit
h's friend, Malcolm Thomson, who
lived a short distance over the line In
Canada. Nearly a week later Thom
son appeared at the Barrows farm to
transact some business, hje said, with
Andy. He seemed greatly surprised
and disappointed at Andy's absence,
and expressed anxiety lest some acci
dent had befallen him. The follow
ing day Thomson went to the village
and In the stores and shops he dis
cussed the disappearance of Andy,
and stirred up considerable comment
among the villagers who had thought,
with his mother and brother, that
Andy was visiting Thomson. The
Scotchman appeared much concerned
and, while expressing no opinion, kept
up the gossip he had started until at
last suspicion was aroused. That
which had been a commonplace cir
cumstance at first became a mystery
that grew deeper and deeper each
hour, until finally someone suggested
foul play. This suggestion rapidly
took root and gathered credence until
the entire neighborhood was sure that
Andv Barrows had been murdered.
John Harrows and his mother, of
course, were tne last to near inese
stories, and when they finally reached
his ears, Jonn started an Immediate In
vestigation, In which nearly all the
men of the village willinglj Joined.
They searched every out-of-the-way
place, every abandoned well, every
possible nook and cranny on the farm.
At night the men looked puzzled and
were ready to go home, and allow the
Bearch to go over until the next day,
when Thomson casually mentioned
the burning of the haystack.
Here the searchers were horrified
to find a partly burned body. Raking
In the ashes, someone found a bunch
of keys and a pocketknlfe, which were
recognized at once as having belonged
to Andy Barrows. A blood-stained
ax, with some light red hairs, exactly
the shade of Andy's hair, adhering to
the blade, was found in the grass near
by. These discoveries seemed to solve
the mystery of Andy's disappearance,
A cowardly murder had been com
mitted, the body hidden In the stack
and the stack burned to conceal the
crime. There seemed no doubt as to
the Identity of the body, and the next
thing was to discover the criminal..
Suspicion at once pointed to John
Barrows. Who else could have com
mltted the awful deed who else
could have had an object In doing it?
Thomson, while expressing doubt as
to Johr.'B guilt, said he knew there
had been some misunderstanding be
tween the brothers, but did not think
it ever would reach such a stage. Sev
eral persons who had heard, or heard
of, the quarrel between the brothers,
came forward to tell what they knew
or Imagined, and things began to look
pretty dark for John. He was as
much puzzled as anyone by the dis
covery made In the ashes of the hay
stack, and could offer no explanation
of the mystery.
John Barrows was formally charged
with the murder of his brother, and
a warrant was sworn out by Thomson
for his arrest. Thomson took this
step most unwillingly, he said, but
felt he must see Justice done his old
friend. No denial on John's part made
the slightest impression on tho mlnils
of the excited people. They wanted
an Immediate trial, but were com
pelled to wait a few weeks for court
to convene, nnd after a brief prelim
inary hearing, John was taken to the
county Jail.
Jane Heath, when the first suspi
cion of her lover was made public,
declared her faith In him, and told
him she would s'and by him and
eventually would see the criminal
punished. No one could shake her
faith In John, ami her friends re
garded her as little short of de
mented when she declared she never
would forsake John Barrows. No one
rise had the slightest faith In l is In
nocence. Even his mother, although
not expressing her opinion, was pros
trated by the grief and the disgrace,
and refused to see her son. She be
lieved him guilty, and could not bear
to see the son who had killed another
son equally dtar.
When the case came to trial there
was little evidence In behalf of the
accused. Old neighbors, ready to be
lieve In his guilt, testified unwillingly
of bis previous good character, but
even allow him the opportunity of liv
ing up lo that estimate, but In the end
the world forms Its own opinion, un
aided and unbiased, and tho amazing
demeanor of many of life's puppets as
they strut across the stage Coeu not
deceive It in the least. It Is a matter
for consideration whether or not tht
man who makes the most noise In the
world Is really not ashamed of tht
! took every prmwfble opportunity to Im-1
! pross on Judge and Jury that clrcum-
stances were mightily against John
Barrows. These old neighbors always
had been Ms friends and were not
really malicious, their action being
merely the result of the well-sown
seeds of distrust scattered by Mal
colm Thomson. John was adjudged
guilty of murder In the first degree.
Jane Heath vowed she would move
Heaven and earth to free her lover,
and through her efforts he was grant
ed a short respite by the governor of
the state, and he was to remain a
few months In Jail before the execu
tion. With renewed hope, she deter
mined to prove his Innocence and save
his life. She Insisted that there was
no proof whatever that Andy Barrows
was not alive; that all the evidence
was purely circumstantial; and she so
earnestly persisted In her theory, and
cast so much doubt on the guilt of
John, that she finally prevailed upon
the governor to commute his sentence
to life Imprisonment.
Soon after the trial of John Bar
rows, Malcolm Thomson determined
to leave that neighborhood. Before do
ing so, he called on Miss Heath and
talked to her most consolingly. But
Jane was suspicious, and his professed
solicitude caused her to believe his
declarations of sympathy and friend
ship were not genuine. His talk lacked
sincerity. Jane made up her mind to
watch him, If possible to do so, as she
believed he held the key to the mys
tery of Andy Barrows's disappearance.
Two years later years In which
Jane Heath, though not inactive, bad
accomplished practically nothing to
ward the release of her lover a young
soldier returned to northern Vermont
from the south on a furlough. From
him Jane learned that Thomson wns
In New Orleans. Sho decided to go to
that city, making the long lourney as
did Evangeline not to find her lover.
but to accomplish his freedom. Travel
YOiSHAU -Vr
by rail to New Orleans was suspended,
and the city could be reached only
by an ocean voyage. She secured a
letter to General Ben Butler from the
governor of the state, took passage
on a steamer for New Orleans, and
arrived there without mishap. She
Immediately went to General Butler's
headquarters, but was refused admis
sion by the sentinel on guard, who
said his orders were to admit no
civilian unless connected with head
quarters affairs. I was at that time
assigned to the secret service depart
ment of the United States govern
ment and waB returning to headquar
ters, and seeing tho ,young woman, I
stopped to question her. 1 was Inter
ested at once In her appearance her
beautiful face and graceful figure, her
air of breeding and refinement, but
more than these, In her quiet dignity
and evident sincerity of purpose. At
my request she gave me the letter ad
dressed to General Butler, and I took
It straight to him. He glanced at It
and handed It back to me, directing
me to ascertain what the young wo
man wanted and report immediately
to him. The letter Introduced the
bearer, approved her mission, and re
quested that all possible courtesies be
shown her. She was seeking a permit
to visit the various points of the de
partment of the gulf where troops
were stationed, and told me frankly
the object of her visit.
On llBlenlng to Miss Heath's story
I was convinced of its truthfulness
and made up my mind to aid her, so
far as was In my power, In her mis
sion of love and fidelity. 1 felt sure,
also, that her services could be made
valuable to the government, and In
aiding her I might also be aiding the
cause for which I was working. I
offered to employ her to pick up In
formation In regard to the doings of
the enemies of tho government. This
would give her a good" chance to
travel about within the Union linen
and thus serve her own ends, so she
promptly accepted the proposition.
For convenience, as well as better to
conceal her identity, 1 suggested that
sho assume masculine apparel Sho
acted at once on thin suggestion, and
when she appeared before me, pre-
pared to enter on her duties, I could
part ho Is playing. Into every man's
life there must come times when It Is
necessary for hliu to turn on the light
of truth ami examine Into his conscl-
I ence. Some of us may delay this or
I deal as long as possible, but in the
end, whether we are ready for It or
not, we must hear Its inquisition Tho
man, however, who has won high sta
tion through mere bluff Is very likely
to continue to bold It by bluff, and the
chances are that ha realizes the dan
gers of his position. There art timet,
poslbly. when tbt noise a man maket
rTirJ'jf fj AW'i'iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'vSyf .v.'iiiimV"
scarcely realize that the handsome
youth wns In reality a refined young
woman.
Not long after this Miss Heath re
ported to me that she had discovered
Malcolm Thomson, and was sure he
was engaged In some kind of crooked
business, t sent a skilled man to the
neighborhood where Thomson was liv
ing, to cultivate that gentleman's
acquaintance. Soon he discovered
that Thomson was carrying on a thri
ving business smuggling goods across
Lake Bontchartraln into the Confed
eracy. Also it was found out that
Thomson was greatly afraid of detec
tion by the federal authorities. Like
all crooks he deemed everyone else
crooked, and was seeking an alliance
with romoone who could "fix" the ru
ling powers. This timidity led him
to take Into his confidence the detect
ive In my employ, Colonel Moncos-
BUS.
Moncossus easily arranged a part
nership with Thomson, after convin
cing him of his Moncossus s great
Influence with the federal authorities
and his ability to obtain the necessary
permits for taking out goods and
bringing In cotton. Thomson was to
furnish the money, while Moncossus
wss to take charge of the little
schooner employed, and manage the
authorities. There also was a third
partner In the scheme, a man named
Hopper, who was located at Mande
ville. Just across Lake Bontchartraln
and inside tho Confederate lines. Col
onel Moncossus wished to meet this
partner, to whom he was a stranger,
and Thomson furnished him with a
photograph of the man, that there
might be no trouble In identifying
him. Moncossus brought the photo
graph to me, and I left it on my desk
without thinking much about It. Miss
Heath, happening In soon after, saw
the photograph and recognized It as a
picture of Andy Barrows. The mythi
cal scheme that had been planued by
fo?Mtfa fx r or
Moncossus for the purpose of entrap
ping the Scotchman, on suspicion that
he was an enemy of the government,
had unintentionally become of para
mount Importance. Steps were taken
at once to bring Andy Barrows before
Miss Heath, and compel him to con
fess his part in the miserable scheme
to spoil the lives of bis brother and
his brother's sweetheart.
A small schooner was procured and
loaded. It was planned to capture
Andy Barrows-Hopper, and bring him
to New Oleans. General Butler,
when consulted, said the plan was a
crazy one, but Moncossus declared he
could carry It out. It did seem a dif
ficult undertaking, but Moncossus was
willing and anxious to take the risk
and abide y the consequences.
When the little boat arrived at
Mandevllle It was unloaded and taken
a few mile, distant across a bayou
for the purwose of taking on bales of
cotton. "Hopper" was there to super
Intend the delivery of the cotton.
When the schooner was ready to -.
he came on board, with two other
men, expecting to be landed at Mai.de
vllle as the. schooner passed on Its
way to New Orleans. The wind was
blowing heavily that day, dead ahead
when the boat pointed toward Mande
vllle, but well In favor when she was
headed across the bay toward New
Orleans.
Hopper's two assistants were porch
ed upon a cotton bale with their legs
hanging over the windward rail at
the moment Colonel Moncossus put
the helm down hard and let go the
main sheet. The boom swung over
with great force, the boat gave a sud
den lurch, and the two men sitting
on the cotton bale were knocked into
the lake.
"Heave her to." shouted Hopper, at
the same time drawing Ms revolver.
Tho next Instant he was lying on the
deck. A bullet had piorced his side
from the forward part of the schooner,
which now was headed directly for
New Orleans before a ten or twelve
knot breeze. When the schooner ar
rived and was hauled up out of the
I lake Into the new basin, I was await
I ing Its arrival and went aboard. A
i surgeon had been sent for to care for
Hopper, but had not arrived. Hopper
confuses tho world's estimate In gen
eral of him, but there Is no question
that there are men everywhere who
have taken his measure again and
ngaln, and who some day may deliber
ately, or, perhaps, unconsciously, Jeo
pardize the position he Imagines Is so
secure. The bluster and pomposity of
the man who vainly believes he It In
dispensable to the world'a progress It
of too thin a texture to veil hit real
self, and sooner or later tht world at
large will learn to know blin for what
ht really It
was badly wounded, and seemed ta
realize that the end was near. Ht
appeared to be a man of some educa
tion and refinement. His high cheek
bones, his coarse features and pals
blue ryes, however, were indicative
of his wicked natura. The tightly
drawn lines about his mouth showed
Inflexibility of will and iron nerve to
carry out whatever he undertook.
When I went forward to speak to
him I recognized Hopper as a man
who had been tried and convicted for
passing counterfeit money at New Or
leans several months before. He had
been sent to the penitentiary at Baton
Kongo, but had escaped during a hnt
tle at that point In which the prison
was partially destroyed. He made bit
way across the Amite river Into tht
Confederacy where, by standing In
with the commanding Confederate of
ficer at Mandevllle, he was ent bled to
handle and ship out cotton.
1 seated myself beside the wounded
man and took his hand, and never
wi'.i 1 forget the ghastly stare with
which he regarded me as I endeav
ored to Impress upon him tho full
realization of his condition and the
duty Incumbent upon hli.i. My urgent
appeal bad Its effect. Hopper admitted
that his mind was burdened with a
great crime, which he was willing to
confess. 1 had set him down as a
scoundrel, but was not quite prepared
to be brought face to face with one
whoso heart was so Inhuman as de
Hberately to plan to hang his own
brother.
"A few years ago," be said, "I, with
my younger brother, lived with our
widowed mother on a little farm in
northern Vermont. There lived near
us a mrst estimable youyyj woman. I
paid her some attention, and in time
fell madly in love with her. When I
supposed I had won her affections I
aked her to marry me. She refused
and did not deny that she loved my
brother when 1 charged her with that
as being the reason for her refusing
me. She wns not to blame. She had
made no promises. 1 had merely mis
taken her sisterly regard and kind
ness to me for affection. I alone was
responsible for the error."
Here he paused for a moment as If
to gather courage for what was to fol
low. Up to this time he had met my
eyes frankly, but now he shifted his
gaze, nnd continued:
"When she told me she could not
marry me, and made no denial of her
regard for my brother, I was filled
with unutterable rage. Calling her a
heartless llirt, 1 seized my hat and
left her. I was furious, desperate, and
determined to ho revenged. While my
heart was filled with rancor and my
mind with spiteful thoughts, 1 con
fided my troubles to Malcolm Thom
son. Ho always was an evil counselor,
but a cunning one. Ho dissuaded me
from my plan for Immediate revenge,
and Hdvlsed mo to appear friendly
with my brother In order better to
cary out a plot which he revealed to
me.
"Soon after this my brother an
nounced his engagement to marry
Miss Heath, and 1 wished him well
with bitterness in my heart. Plans
were made for the marriage, and I
seemed to take an Interest In them,
and to have forgiven my brother and
his fiancee my fancied wrongs. But I
was only biding my time.
"When the time was rlpo for execu
ting the plot we had arranged, 1 man
aged to be at work with my brother In
a field on our farm. On the previous
night Thomson and I had placed the
body of a man about my size In a hay
stack, which stood near where we
were at work repairing a fence. Thon
son bad obtained the body from a pau
per's burying ground on the Canadian
side.
"My brother left the field that day
Just before dark. I remained for the
purpose of completing the work.
When the sun had set and It was dark,
I punctured a small vein In my. arm,
and with the blood besmeared the bit
of the axwe had been using. I cut
off a lock of my hair and scattered It
on tho bloody blade, and then pitched
the ax Into the gvuss. Reaching be
neath the body In the hay I deposited
my pocketknlfe and bunch of keys.
Then I set fire to the stack and hur
ried to Join Thomson, who was wait
ing near by with a horse und buggy.
We drove rapidly away, nnd I soon
was on my way to New Orleans,
whero Thomson was to Join tne In a
few weens.
"It was agreed that Thomson should
first return to the village and stir up
suspicion, which would result In a
search for mo and the discovery of
the burned body. Everything turned
out thus far as we had planned. My
brother was accused and convicted.
"It was my purpose, when my rlvul
should be out of my way, to return
home, and after a time renew my at
tentions to Miss Heath, but I put off
going from lime to time. I could not
face my old friends and neighbors
Through Thomson I learned that my
brother's sentence was commuted. I
was thankful for that. No one ever
will know the remorse I have suffered
for my ciime. My name Is Andy Mar
rows."
Heath came soon to Andy Harrows,
and he waB beyond the Jurisdiction of
mortal tribunals. Thomson, who In
6onv way got an Inkling or the turn
of affairs, disappeared -he whose
wicked brain had devised Bnd man
aged the entire plot.
Miss Heath, with documents fully
verifying the cxperlenc s through
which sho had passed, hastened home
to If y before tho governor the proofs
of the truth of her intuition. A par
don was promptly issutid, and she
was given the well earned privilege of
currviiiB it to the lover whose inno
cence bad been established ty
faith and untiring devotion.
her
Food Importance,
"Why Is It," asks tho modern novel
ist, "that a woman always says she
isa't hungry, and that a man never
believes her?" Which brings us to
the question of food und Its rational
appreciation. Not to (are about wbut
we eat Is cither genuine or bypocrltlc.
If genuine It betokens u defect of
which we ought to ho ashamed; for
surely the stomach Is as noble an or
gan as the face, and deserves as much
earnest attention. If hypocritic it Is a
Bioat absurd affectation
A
FOR KILLING CATS
THIS 8AID TO HAVE
YEAR-OLD YOUTH A
DERER.
MADE
MUR-
19
FLEES INTO THE MOUNTAINS
Expert Slaughterer Shoots Detective
When Trapped as Freight Car Rob
ber Son With Father Afterwards
Overtaken by Rangers and Shot.
El Paso, Tex A mania for killing
cats la said by Robert Howe, wounded
and captured bandit, to have niado his
brother Guy, eighteen years old, a
murderer.
As a sequence, Guy and his father,
sixty-four years old, have Just been
shot to death. Tho other son, Robert,
has two bullets in hit body, but will
recover and will bo tried for a murder
to which ho has confessed.
Before the father and his younger
son were killed as thoy lay In ambush
they murdered Customs Guard Tom
O'Connor and shot Justice of the
Peace Hemley In the arm.
The Howes lived near Abo, N. M.,
on a ranch, and were suspected of rob
bing merchandise cars set out at
Helen Junction.
When several of these robberies
had been reported, I. H. McClure, a
Santa Fe railroad detective went to
Helen Junction and secured evidence
against tho Howes. Trailing the
tracks of a wagon from a car standing
on a elding to tho Howe ranch, he
found some of the merchandise In the
Howe home.
McClure tried to arrest the elder
Howe and his son Guy, and was shot
by Guy. Robert Howe, the surviving
brother says:
' This was the first time Guy ever
shot at a man, but he was death on
cats and had tried every kind of a
torture on them In tho way of a linger
ing death, nnd I guess his practice
of killing cats kind of made him anx
ious to get this railroad detective."
After the killing of McClure, the
Howes started over tho river Into
Mexico. At Fort Hancock, O'Connor
Mountain Ambush.
tried to arrest the Howes and waa
killed. Robert Howe, the living
brother, confesses to shooting O'Con
nor. Ho was twice wounded In the
fight and left by his father and broth
er as they hurried over the river into
Mexico and started for shelter In the
Sierra Blanco mountains.
Two posses of rangers started after
the fugitives and found them In am
bush. The Howes were armed only
with revolvers while the rangers car
rl le rifles. Standing out of revolver
range, the officers shot down the fa
ther and son with bulleU after they
had refused to surrender. How many
times they were shot Is not known.
Tho rangers were good marksmen und
the tired into the clump of sage brush
whero the fugitives were trying to
hide 150 times, many of the bullets ta
king effect,
Robert Howe Is In Jail at El Paso.
His father and brother were burled at
Fort Hancock. The Santa Fe railroad
offered $000 reward for the capture of
the Howes on account of the killing of
McClure, und this amount has been
divided among members of the rnng
ers who took part In the Sierra Blanco
tight
SAYS BIG HAT DESTROYED EYE
Nebraskan Blame Size of Headgear
for Carrying Hatpin to Injury
Point.
Humboldt, Neb. James C. Kllgore
has sued Mrs. Mary K. Holndexter for
$.000 damages In tho circuit court
here, charging that her very largo hat
was tho cause of his losing his right
eye.
Kllgore's petition recites that on a
windy afternoon he wns walking
along tho principal street of this
tow:;; that ten feet In front of him
Mrs. Holndexter wns walking, wear
ing a hat which was at leaat threo
feet In diameter; that the wind picked
tho hat from Mrs. Polndexter's heud
and that It sailed toward him like an
Inflated balloon and that tho point of
a pin that passed through Its crown,
pierced his right eye, completely de
stroying the sight.
Blondes Are Preferred.
Philadelphia. Blondes In Phlladel
phi a liuve just threo times as many
chances to be married aa have bru
nettes, according to the records kept
at the license bureau. During the last
year the clerks havo kept careful tab
on the complexion of women appli
cants for licenses and Robert E. Fur
geson, chief clerk, announces that out
of 16,000 couples applying for licenses
In the last 11,000 catet the women bad
light hair.
The clerks In the dlvoroe courts
here now have docldcd to keep a sim
ilar record to ascertain whether
blondes or brunettes are the more
peaceable.
HID
In a
WESTERN CANADA
COUNTING ITS GOLD
THE GRAIN CROP OF 1910 WAS A
OOOO PAYING ONE,
Crop condl'.lons throughout th weai
of Canada were not Ideal, but notwlta
standing there were excellent crops.
Reports come from different parts to
tho agents of tho Canadian govern
ment, whose literature tells a good
part of the story, that the crops la
most places were splendid.
At Castor, Alta., F. Galloway's oat
crop threshed 35 bushels to the acre,
machine measure, and 44 bushels by
weight. Alex Robertson of Dellsle,
Alta., bad 20 bushels to the acre on
175 acres. W. & H. Clark, 17 bush
els to the acre on 77 acres. Sheldon
Ramsey, 20 bushels on 160 acres.
J. Lane threshed 3,600 bushels off 200
acres; J. Hamilton, 6,200 bushels off
64 acres. Mrs. Headley had an av
erage of 25 bushels per acre on 160
acres. Chambers Bros, got 13,270
bushels off CC0 acres.
Fertile Valloy district, O. Rollo, had
an average of 23 bushels to the acre
on a total crop of 10,000 bushels. H.
Brown of rtneher Creek had a yield
of 33 bushels on his winter wheat;
W. Walker, Miss Walker and John
Qoberla all had an average yield of
25 bushels; Mr. Fltzpatrlck, 23, and
Mr. Freebalrn, 20. Charles Nelson
of Bon Accord, Alberta, had tRioshej
hit crop of 6,000 bushels of grain,
wheat, oats and barley, from 210
acres of old ground.
Wm. Logan of Bon Accord is re
ported to have threshed 400 bushelt
of wheat from 9 acres of new break
ing. His oats It Is said yielding over
100 bushels to the acre. Robert Mar
tin of Belbeck, Sask., from 100 acrot
got 3,740 bushels of wheat, (iw. A.
Campbell of Caron, Bask., from 130
acres summer fallow got 40 bushelt
per acre, and from 60 acrea stubble
got 24 bushels per acre. One of the
farmers of Colonsay threshed out 38
bushels of wheat per acre from 150
acres summer fallow, and another 33
bushels per acre. James Glen of
Drinkwater, Bask., had 36 ',4 bushelt
per acre; 40 acres summer fallow,
81 bushels per acre; 40 acres stubble,
27 bushels per acre; total, 6,680
bushels off 200 acres. Abe Winters
of Fleming has 39 bushels of wheat
per acre. At Govnn, Benjamin Arm
strong hnd 33 bushels to the acre.
John Glumlln. 34 bushels. Charles
I.ntta, 35 bushels. J. K. Taylor, 81
bushels. W. Small, 2,060 bushela on
90 acres. J. F. Moore, 6,500 bushels
on 215 acres. J. MacLan, 1,500 bush
els on 03 acres. W. Hopwood, 1,750
bushels on 60 acres. W. Gray, 950
bushels on 30 acres. W. Curtln, 860
bushels on 3J acres. John Meyers,
Jr., of Grand Coulee, reports 84
bushels to the acre. I. P. Epp of
Langham, Sask., has 35 13 bushels per
acre. J. J. rmesson, si Dusneis per
acre. Chris Dear, 23 bushels per
aero from 90 acres, wm. injessen.
18V4 bushels from 100 acres. P. P.
Schultz, 18 bushels per acre from 100
acres. Robt. II. Wiggins of Manor,
Bask., bad 39 bushels wheat and 75
bushels of oats per acre. Fred Cobb,
80 bushelt of wheat and 75 bushels of
oats per acre. Jack Robinson, 89
bushels of wueat per acre. Win. Kin
del of Milestone, Sask., bad 88 bush
els of wheat per acre. R. J. Mocre,
40 bushels of wheat per acre. Martin
Roddy, 88 bushels of wheat per acre.'
J. D. Slfton of Moose Jaw had W
bushels wheat per acre; oats, 60 bush
els per acre; flax, 11 bushelt to the
acre. John L. Smith of New Warren
had 35 bushelt of wheat per acre. At
Rcgina II. W. Laird had 35 buBhell'
to the acre; W. II. Duncan, wheat, 22
bushels to the acre, flax, 16 bushelt;
O. M. Bell, wheat, 35 bushels to the
acre, oats, 70 bushels; O. HI. Rothwel),
26 bushels to the acre; J. McKincIt,
wheat, 85 bushels summer fallow; 20
bushels stubble; oats, 80 bushels; J.
8. Mooney, 81 bushels of wheat; 80
bushels oats on stubble. At Tessles,
Wm. Nesbltt had 44 bushels wheat to
the acre. Sep. Latrace, 34 bushels.
Thos. Miller, 31 bushels. These were
all on summer fullow. Major Bros.'
stubble went 14. At Tuxford, Bask.,
C. B. Dunning had 37 bushels. James
Bain, 41 buBhels summer fallow. At
Yellow Grass, Wm. Robson, off one
half section, had 45 bushels wheat to
the acre, and 40 bushels off another
averaged 37 bushels to the acre. Geo.
Steer, oft a twenty-acre field, threshed
half. M. A. Wilkinson, off 160 acres,
52 bushels wheat to the acre. Ills
whole crop averaged over 40. Jas.
A. R. Cameron's half section averaged
over 36 bushels to the acre. D. Mc
Nevan, who bat two farms, averaged
about 40 bushels. W. A. Cooper got
47 bushels to the acre off 71 acrea;
his wholo crop went about 40. John
Murray, 85 per acre oft" 160 acres.
Ilockloy Bros., 33 per acre off a half
section. W. Ransom, 35 per acre of
the Cathcert farm. N. Dunne, 89 to
tho aero. S. C. Hart, 38 per acre.
T. Murray, Jr., 88 to the acre. A H.
McEwan, SS to the acre. Mayor Tay
lor, 32 to tho acre.
Climatic Conversation.
"Tho weather Is always a conveni
ent topic of conversation."
"I don't think so. You are so often
compelled to think twice In order to
select polite phraseology."
ONLY ONE "IIROMO QriNTNE."
Tht Is 1.A1A I1VH lllklHO ULIMNt. Iah tnt
Mm Kltfimitirs iif H. W. i.itovn.. l'tcl tli ar,i
ort u, l ur Cold lu Odo linf. 26u.
And many a man never realizes the
value of his home until he has occa
sion to collect the fire Insurance.
Better health ii sure to fullow the use of
tlin nutuml Herb laxative, Gurtield Tea.
All diugkli'ts.
Intervention in love is equivalent to
o declaration of war.
Nothing Too Good
for you. That's why we want yoq
to take CASCARETS for liver anl
bowels. It's not advertising talk
but merit the great, wonderful,
lasting merit of CAARliTS that
we want you to know by trial. Theu
you'll have faith and join the mil
lions who keep well by CASCA
RETS alone. w
CASCARETS ioc bos for a wrcc a
tiealiucnt. alt ru gttta. Bmwr.l idler
tn the voilj. klulioa bo., . ,i ..na.